


Liquid Courage

by kafrickinboom



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Cunnilingus, Drunkenness, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, More like tipsy but whatever, Oral Sex, POV Sara Crispino, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11037645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kafrickinboom/pseuds/kafrickinboom
Summary: She crept past Mila’s bedroom, coming to a full stop, doubling back when she’d heard a sleep-rough voice calling her name followed by a pained groan. Concerned, Sara peeked through the cracked open doorway, eyes widening, slapping a hand over her mouth to smother the gasp at the sight before her.





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missbip0lar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbip0lar/gifts).



> Written for a smut request thing by one of my best friends! 
> 
> 'I caught you masturbating' sex.

It was well past midnight by the time Sara got back to Mila’s after hitting one of the local clubs with Georgi. Sara was visiting for the week, crashing in Mila’s guest bedroom rather than paying for a hotel, and she’d wanted to eat up as much time with her friends as she possibly could. Mila hadn’t wanted to go out tonight much to Sara’s disappointment, claiming she was exhausted from the day’s practice. Sara had offered to stay with her friend, but Mila had waved her off, told her to enjoy herself. It seemed Mila didn’t know she would have enjoyed herself  _ much _ better if she had a certain lithe redhead with big, beautiful blue eyes to dance with.

She closed the door behind her gently. She stumbled a bit as she took off her shoes, still tipsy from whatever the hell Georgi that drink he had ordered for her was. It was neon pink and smelled like paint thinner, but tasted like heaven, a smooth burn on the way down that went to her head in no time. She haphazardly threw her jacket in the direction of the coatrack and swayed her way toward her room. 

She crept past Mila’s bedroom, coming to a full stop, doubling back when she’d heard a sleep-rough voice calling her name followed by a pained groan. Concerned, Sara peeked through the cracked open doorway, eyes widening, slapping a hand over her mouth to smother the gasp at the sight before her.

In the low light of the muted, flickering TV, Mila lay on her bed in nothing but a white tank top, her hardened nipples bleeding through with legs spread wide. Her fingers glistened as they rhythmically pumped in and out of her core, panting, low, throaty moans escaping her swollen, bitten-red lips. Her other hand clenched into the pillow beside her head, which was thrown to the side, eyes closed, lost in her pleasure. Sara also didn’t miss the way Mila’s lips breathlessly curled over her name.

Sara  _ knew _ she wasn’t mistaking the sexual tension between them. That was half of the reason she’d wanted to go out with Mila tonight- to maybe down some liquid courage and seduce Mila into letting her go down on her or something. Sara might not have done anything with another girl before, but she’d come to the realization that she probably wasn’t exactly straight years ago, when she’d first met Mila. She remembered the way her eyes had danced down the line of Mila’s back as she walked away, and the way  _ everything _ was attractive to her- Mila’s body, her energy, tenacity and unapologetic confidence were just a few things that lured Sara in. The fact that Sara was standing here, entranced with electricity licking under her skin and heat shooting between her legs in response to voyeuristically watching her friend get off was only confirmation of what she’d already known. 

Sara’s wide eyes were trained on the way each circular pass over Mila’s clit elicited a gasp, a twitch of Mila’s muscular legs, and Sara’s mouth watered. Sara didn’t know what to do, frozen in place as she watched the woman of her every fantasy fucked herself on her fingers, and Sara found herself itching to replace them with her own. Should she go to bed and confront Mila tomorrow, or should she go in there and offer to fuck her best friend? 

The alcohol in her system took the decision out of her from her. Apparently even standing stock still an impossibility, she realized as she swaying forward, knocking the door wide open with a loud, startling creak. 

Mila shouted, scrambling to cover herself up, and Sara couldn’t help but find the flush-darkened cheeks adorable. She grimaced with an awkward wave and a quiet, little ‘hey, Mi.’

“What the  _ fuck _ are you doing?! Get out!” Mila hissed, using indignation in some attempt to hide her embarrassment, probably. Sara rolled her eyes at her friend with a smile, her drunk courage carrying her further into the room to plop down beside Mila, disregarding the angry sputtering.

“I heard who you were calling for, Mi,” she leaned forward into Mila’s space, cutting off whatever Mila was going to say with a smiling lasciviously, unfazed by the mortification on the younger woman’s face. “If you wanted me to fuck you, you could have just asked. I’m very, very far from opposed.”

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying,” Mila gaped, but Sara could hear the hope in her tone. 

“Pshh, I only had two drinks.” She raised a brow. “In case you didn’t already know, I want you when I’m completely sober too.” She added, slowly putting her hand on Mila’s exposed knee, giving her friend time to back away, licking her lips as she grazed her fingers up a few inches. She innocently tilted her head with a bitten lip, eyes dancing over Mila’s soft features, and Mila’s face shifted to something like determination as she knocked Sara into her back.

The smile on Sara’s lips was lost in the slick slide of Mila’s lips brushing against her own. She moaned into it as Mila straddled her hips, carding her fingers into that soft, red hair. Sara marveled at the soft skin of Mila’s legs sliding against hers. They battled for dominance, a dance of tongues, teeth and will, neither backing off until Sara sharply tugged on Mila’s hair, detaching their lips to run her teeth along the long, pale curve of Mila’s biteable neck in an attempt to leave her mark. 

Sara’s breath hitched as Mila’s breasts rubbed against hers and suddenly the fabric of her shirt felt too rough against her skin. She pulled back to rip her shirt over her head, careless of where it landed as her fingers curled under Mila’s shirt next. She’d forgotten that she’d foregone wearing a bra, but unapologetically tilted her chin up as Mila’s brilliant blue eyes darkened. She raised her brows in question and Mila’s breath left her in a whoosh as she nodded. Sara wasted no time in giving Mila’s shirt the same treatment as hers, reveling in the sight of Mila’s pale pink nipples, so different from her brown. Sara sat up as best she could, her hands gliding over the silky skin of Mila’s breasts, diving in to take a nipple between her lips. Mila cried out, gripping her shoulders as her chest strained forward for more. Sara ran her tongue over the peak, sucking gently before moving to do the same to the other nipple.

Mila grinded down in a futile attempt to get pressure where she needed it, whimpering when one of Sara’s shy hands trailed down her stomach, hesitating one breathless moment before pushing her fingers up into Mila’s wet heat. Both women moaned as Sara explored Mila’s soft cunt. Sara swallowed thickly, reveling in the velvety, wet heat, so similar but so different from her own. 

Mila’s eyes fluttered, her mouth dropping open on a groan as Sara pulled her fingers out to glance over her clit. Sara did it again, building a slow, teasing rhythm as Mila’s hips swiveled forward. Sara took a nipple back into her mouth, looking up at Mila in wonder as Mila’s breathing grew harsher, her hips grind into her hand harder, her face screwing up in something that looked pained, panting out a frantic  _ ‘I’m gonna come, Sara. I’m gonna-’ _ and Sara stopped. Mila’s eyes flew open incredulously and Sara took the advantage of Mila’s sputtering irritation to flip them. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, Mi. Can I…” She trailed off, crawling backwards until her face was hovering over Mila’s center. 

_ “Fuck, _ yes,  _ please,” _ Mila begged, and Sara dragged her tongue over the seam of Mila’s cunt, smiling at the spill of guttural, Russian cursing.

She used to fingers to spread Mila, dipping her tongue toward the redhead’s entrance before laving her tongue up toward Mila’s clit. She found that she  _ definitely _ didn’t mind the taste, unique and a bit sharp and purely  _ Mila _ and Sara had to squeeze her legs together to get some semblance of pressure on her own clit. She took a second to thank fate that she’d decided to put her hair up in a high bun earlier or she probably would have suffocated in her own tresses by now. She was slow and tentative, cataloguing Mila’s every reaction. It seemed there wasn’t much the Russian didn’t like, and Sara liked making Mila’s legs involuntarily switch with each circular drag of her tongue, a mimicry of what she’d seen Mila do to herself with her fingers. 

“F-fingers, please, Sara,  _ fuck,” _ Mila slurs, and Sara was happy to oblige. She was pretty sure Mila close. She pushed two fingers in to the first knuckle, curling her fingers up and twisting them the way she herself liked. Mila’s back bowed, her fingers plunged deep into her own hair, moaning, everything shuddering and tensing as she grew closer to the finish line. Sara sucked on Mila’s clit, ignoring the pain beginning to grow in her jaw as she dragged her tongue over it harder, and Mila  _ screamed. _ Sara’s eyes fly wide as they stay trained on the woman under her mouth, Mila’s cunt fluttering tightly over her fingers, her thighs trembling on either side of her head. Sara eased Mila through it, stopping only after Mila gently pushed her head away, whimpering that it was too much. 

Sara sat back with a proud, beaming smile, licking her lips, and Mila groaned at the sight, pulling Sara up to crash their lips together in a sloppy, passionate kiss. Mila wasted no time in sluggishly hiking Sara’s skirt up, tugging her damp underwear to the side and curling two fingers into Sara’s cunt as she expertly thumbed over Sara’s clit. Sara’s legs widened of their own volition, her breath picking up in a harsh tempo as Mila seemingly effortlessly took her apart.

Sara was so worked up from having her mouth on Mila that it only took a total of maybe five or six passes for Sara to rip from Mila’s mouth, coming with Mila’s name whispered like a prayer. Afterwards, her arms gave out from under her, and she had just enough wherewithal to collapse to the side so she didn’t crush her friend. Both she and Mila struggled to catch their breath, the only sound in the dim room.

Sara turned toward Mila, lazily smiling as she caught the look on Mila’s face. There was a light sheen of sweat that made the colors from the TV dance over Mila’s smooth skin. She looked blissful and more relaxed than Sara had seen since she’d gotten here. Sara smile shyly, sober and happy as Mila turned her eyes to meet Sara’s. Mila giggled hysterically, reaching out to Sara who happily curled into Mila’s embrace, lethargy sweeping over them both. 

Mila fell asleep first, lips parted and snoring lightly. Sara smiled fondly at the younger woman. They could talk about this tomorrow- whatever  _ this _ was. For now, she’d just let herself drift to sleep, thanking God that liquid courage still managed to work in her favor.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't actually written femslash smut before, so...I hope you liked it!


End file.
